


One More Time

by orphan_account



Series: yoi filth [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Barebacking, Bocchan the Long-suffering Kotatsu, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Kink Exploration, M/M, Pregnancy Kink, prayer circle for viktor's dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 11:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11462574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Viktor takes Yuuri's pregnancy kink and runs with it. An innocent kotatsu is terribly misused in the process.





	One More Time

**Author's Note:**

> I have ... no excuses. Most of this was stress-written in parallel with my big bang. This kind of is a spiritual sequel to _Okaerinasai_? that should probably tell you EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THIS.
> 
> (eta 13/7: edited for 3am-induced typos)

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


When Yuuri was little, he never imagined he’d have this: lying close enough to touch on a large bed with Viktor Nikiforov, dozing in fits after an intense half-day of on-ice training and then physical therapy for the both of them. Having their lives touch so closely that their training schedules sync, and that _the_ Yakov Feltsman would schedule them both out of his rink simultaneously to make way for his younger skaters. 

His mind meanders through these thoughts, half-lucid and tinged with wonder, until Viktor rolls over onto him abruptly.

"Ah." Viktor sounds satisfied. "I remember now." 

Yuuri shivers. This close, Viktor's hair hangs around their faces, the ends brushing Yuuri's cheeks. In their twilit bedroom, with golden sunlight soaking in through the gauze curtains, Viktor looks fey, the throw of light through his hair diffuse on the sharp planes of his face. The bow of his mouth, is parted: pink, wet, promising.

"Remember wh-what?" Yuuri doesn't even try to fight the blush rising to his cheeks, a reflex to that particular timbre of Viktor's voice: husky, amused, smooth and rich as the darkest chocolate. 

By way of response, Viktor shifts his weight to his left elbow and splays his right hand out over Yuuri's sternum, soothing it down to rest over Yuuri's abdomen. Goosepimples rise in its wake. His thumb rubs contemplatively at the soft cotton just over Yuuri's belly-button. His gaze is hot on Yuuri's face, devouring. 

"This," he says softly. "You want me to fill you, don't you?" 

Understanding breaks over Yuuri like a -- a wave, because he's immediately drowning. In embarrassment, in the swamping desire that immediately scorches through him. 

Viktor continues, relentless, still looking at Yuuri like a puzzlebox that he's finally solved. "Pump you full of my come until it, ah, takes. _Fuck_ our babies into you."

"Oh," Yuuri whimpers softly, mouth completely bypassing his brain, insides melting into a squirming mass of need already. He's tingling all over, his legs buzzing where Viktor's strong, powerful ones press against them. Yuuri is hyperaware of the solidity of Viktor against him, the way Viktor's got him bracketed in against their bed. Again, helplessly, Yuuri says, "Oh.”

The smile that spreads over Viktor's face is devilish, and he dips low to lick a dizzying kiss into Yuuri's mouth, melt Yuuri even more with just his lips and tongue, and the mesmerising back-and-forth of his thumb on Yuuri's belly. The little square inch of skin there feels overheated, even through the worn cotton of Yuuri's nightshirt. It feels like the epicentre of the minor earthquake that's rearranging Yuuri's insides, the nerves there going straight to his cock, to the already twitching muscles of his hole. 

When Viktor pulls back, he at least looks as wrecked as Yuuri feels.

"Yes?" Viktor rumbles, and the sound of it spears Yuuri right through, makes him feel like his head is light as air, his limbs weightless. Like a plaything to be used at Viktor's whim. His tongue feels swollen in his mouth. Viktor understands, it seems, face softening and eyes warming. Yuuri could drown in those eyes forever. "All right, darling."

He sits up, and the absence of his heat over Yuuri is like a gaping loss. Yuuri makes a distressed sound, but then Viktor's already gathering him up into his arms, into his lap.

"Shhh, love." Ah, Yuuri loves this, sitting in Viktor's lap, feeling Viktor's arms secure around his waist and back. Being gathered in so close he can feel the way Viktor is hungry for him. "Can you -- give me a nod if this is okay?"

This is more than okay. Yuuri can do more than nod. He nuzzles at the skin under Viktor's ear, mouths at it, feels Viktor's hips jump. Feels Viktor hard against himself. "Please," is what comes out, dreamy. He feels it, too. 

Hot breath is exhaled against his neck. "God, kotyenok." 

It's kotyenok often, when they're at play; zolotse when they're tender. Sweetheart, darling, love are always applicable. 

They're at play now, but it's tender, too, the way Yuuri is being laid out over Viktor's lap. Like this, he can rut into Viktor's strong, corded thighs, back into the fingers massaging lube into him, readying him. A small, intense sunspot of pleasure right 3 inches below his belly button unfurls tendrils through his limbs. 

" _Hnnn_ , ahhhh." The noises Yuuri is making are loud in his ears, the panting breaths he take dampen the quilt he's got his face half turned into. Viktor is trembling underneath him, all coiled restraint. 

"Fuck, I have to —" Viktor grits out. 

Yes, Yuuri thinks, anything. Please. 

There's a dizzying sequence of activity, and Yuuri ends up hanging half-off the bed, Viktor kneeling on the floor and burying his face in Yuuri's ass, fingers prying Yuuri open so he can lick broad stripes up Yuuri's taint, so he can spit into his hole and spread it with his tongue. A tight, winding sensation weighs low in his belly. Yuuri can feel the uncontrollable winking of his hole, the way his insides are clenching desperately around nothing. He makes more sounds, pushes his hips back, offering. 

Viktor swears in Russian, guttural and unutterably sexy, which is part of the reason why Yuuri lets out a loud moan when he finally feels Viktor's tongue pressing into him. It's hot, wet, supple. Feels different, especially in the way Viktor flexes it inside of him. Yuuri moans again.

"I'm sorry," Viktor's gasping into his hungry hole, though Yuuri can't remember what for. "I just need to -- this, now." 

Yuuri thinks he makes some sort of sound, as his abdomen clenches and his back bows with pleasure, when Viktor sucks a kiss into that sensitive pucker of skin, wet and desperate. His fingers are trembling where they're pressed into the flesh of Yuuri's ass; Yuuri reaches back to put his hands over Viktor's. 

Viktor makes a dying sound, before he pulls back a little. His voice is rough when he says, "Hold yourself like this for me, kotyenok," and it's Yuuri's turn to moan as he complies. 

He hears rustling behind him, the padding of Viktor's feet; feels the dip of the mattress next to his hip. The unclicking of their lube is loud in the anticipatory silence of the room. 

"God, you look so fucking sexy like this, kotyenok," Viktor rasps, a looming presence behind Yuuri once more. "All ready for me." He presses a slippery finger to Yuuri; Yuuri clenches around the tip of it and gasps out a little whine as Viktor pushes it in, slow. "So _hungry_ for me, aren't you, sweetheart, me and my come." 

The room feels like it's spinning around him, Yuuri's so light-headed with desperation. 

Beneath his cheek, the smooth cotton is darkening with the tears running down his face and the way he's drooling onto the sheets, overwhelmed and insensate with the hot suction of Viktor's mouth on him, the fingers thrumming insistently against his sweet spot, the clever tongue licking all around where they're stretching Yuuri. He's feeling it in his fingertips and his toes, the buzzing pleasure building and building under his skin it crests, crashes over him and tows him under like a riptide. 

When Yuuri resurfaces, he's curled against Viktor's chest, and his belly and upper thighs are sticky with his come, Viktor idly stroking through the mess with his fingers. 

"Hello, kotyenok," Viktor purrs. "Welcome back."

"Mnnnn," Yuuri nuzzles against him, desire already curling through his veins again. The thick, hot shape of Viktor against his lower back is compelling. All Viktor's done with his eating out is make Yuuri all the more aware of how empty he is; how he aches to be filled. "Vitya..."

Viktor's fingers pause and press in over Yuuri's bellybutton, flattening over it. "Ah, are you ready for more?" 

Yuuri will beg if he has to. He _has_ begged when he had to.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to -- Viktor pulls him up, props him kneeling up against the headboard, directing Yuuri to wrap his fingers over the wooden frame. There's something about being put exactly into the place Viktor desires that sends a tremor glancing through Yuuri, makes him want to melt even more than he already has. Melt into Viktor; have Viktor melt into him. 

"I hear this is the best position for conceiving," Viktor says thoughtfully, crowding up close behind Yuuri, cock nudging at Yuuri's entrance, the head of it rubbing in as Viktor thrusts gently. It catches just inside Yuuri’s rim, and they both exhale, shuddery with pleasure. Viktor frees a hand, slides it over Yuuri's trembling abdomen again. Yuuri has no idea if this is true or not, but Viktor's play-acting is surprisingly genuine, and _that_ makes Yuuri turn his head to kiss the beloved line of Viktor's jaw, slide an arm back to tilt Viktor's mouth against his own.

They stay like that, Yuuri enjoying the hot thick slide of Viktor fucking smoothly into him; panting against Viktor's mouth; the way Viktor's settled a hand over his abdomen, holding him in place, pressing them together. Gradually, the rhythm changes, as Viktor loses himself in the bliss of _Yuuri_ himself; his thrusts get harder, harsher. Yuuri twists away to hang his head low and feel the percussive force of their bodies meeting.

In between Viktor's groans, he catches words that catch fire low in his pelvis: _baby, mine, fuck, whore_.

Yuuri doesn't come, but Viktor does, shouting incoherently as his cock swells maddeningly and then pulses deep into Yuuri. 

He imagines his insides shifting, somehow; that Viktor will pump his belly full of seed, stuff him so full that his belly will swell with Viktor's _get_ , bind them even closer together. It is at this thought that something moves through Yuuri, immense, subtle, unsettling. In its wake -- the feeling that things have settled just half a step to the left. He's a little fuzzy, a little on the edge. Like this isn't enough. Like they'll have to fuck the whole night through for this to work. 

Oh, Yuuri _has_ come again.

This, and the feeling of Viktor’s come slipping out between the seal of their bodies, has Yuuri gasping, “Again, Vitya, ag _ain_ ," and tightening up around Viktor. 

“ _Blyad_ ,” he hears Viktor swear, hot and so gravelly low his voice rumbles through Yuuri’s back where they’re pressed together. “Give me -- some time, kotyenok.” So they stay there, Viktor’s thighs splaying Yuuri’s own wider over them, Viktor’s hands playing with Yuuri’s nipples and kissing open-mouthed and dirty up the sensitive side of Yuuri’s neck; Viktor’s cock literally plugging Yuuri until Viktor can get it up again. 

A heady, feverish time later, time itself has lost all meaning and the sun has set. Only the glow of the street lamps marching down the curve of their street cast any light at all into their room. It's almost a den, like this: dark, hot, humid, smelling of sex. Cozy, even, the way they're spooned close on the bedsheets, twisted up all around them. 

"Ah, we need to eat dinner, darling," Viktor says tenderly, starting to withdraw. "Let's --"

Yuuri, who’s currently a creature made entirely of instinct and fantasy fecundity, growls and clenches around him. He can feel Viktor's full body shudder, the way they're wrapped up together.

"Okay," says Viktor, and soothes a hand over Yuuri's belly. "I'll call out for dinner." 

He’s _so good_ to Yuuri.

And Viktor does so whilst still fully seated inside Yuuri, the fingers of one hand idly stroking the come that's trickling out around his semi back into Yuuri. Being stuffed so makes arousal lick around the base of his pelvis, makes Yuuri whimper a little. Viktor's eyes snap to him; Viktor loses the thread of his order. 

"Uh-um, sorry, what's that -- again?" 

Yuuri mewls a bit. He knows Viktor loves that sound, and tries to replicate it: the headspace he's in when he mewls, the way his body goes lax in that state. He's right on the precipice of it, on the edge of tipping over and sliding down into a warm, tingling bath. 

"Yes that's it, half-an-hour-thank-you." Viktor throws his phone down and snaps his hips, punching a cry out of Yuuri's lungs. " _Yuuri_."

"Ye-e-es," Yuuri gasps out, eyes closing. 

"God, kotyenok, the way you are like this." The hard rhythm that Viktor has set up is at odds with the gentle way he's cradling Yuuri in his arms, the tender fingers he has spread over Yuuri's jaw, dipping into Yuuri's mouth. Yuuri sucks at the tips of them, the sweat-salty taste of them precious and true. Yuuri can feel the keening shivering their way out of his throat, in between sucks. Viktor kneels up suddenly, a knee stopping Yuuri from rolling onto his back, Yuuri's leg now stretched out and tucked over his shoulder. The fat head of his cock still lodged just inside of Yuuri, stretching his rim.

Yuuri can barely process -- he makes a confused sound, reaches out for Viktor.

"I just ... want to see," Viktor bites out, leans down a little so Yuuri feels the burn in his thighs when Viktor grinds in short, teasing bursts back into him. "You look amazing, sweetheart." 

All Yuuri can do is pant at him and flush all over. Then he slides his own hand slowly down his chest, letting it settle over his lower belly before rubbing there, lets his mouth fall further open and his head tilt back, heated gaze still locked on Viktor, and tightening up with some effort around Viktor again. 

Viktor spits out something entirely incomprehensible, eyes losing focus a little, before he pulls almost all the way out again, and then fucks back into Yuuri in one powerful stroke. He repeats it again, and again, the curve of his dick beautifully rubbing past Yuuri’s sweet spot, until Yuuri is curling up with the force of his orgasm, aftershocks prolonged by the way Viktor goes still against him, heaving for breath, adding to the come inside Yuuri. 

The doorbell rings.

The quick breath that Yuuri takes makes him feel exposed, ashamed — but not ashamed enough not to beg. So Viktor puts a plug in Yuuri, because Viktor is kind and generous and understands Yuuri's wordless, distressed whines. Viktor makes Yuuri drink a glass of water, before getting up to rinse the both of them off in an effort not to scare off the delivery boy. 

They eat with Yuuri in Viktor's lap, both of them tucked under the comfortable warmth of the kotatsu blanket, Viktor bringing spoonfuls of hot, tangy borscht to Yuuri’s mouth and bidding him swallow. 

Yuuri’s lips are tingling with the spice in the broth, and the kisses that Viktor gives him as encouragement. Viktor, he thinks, is very good at taking care of Yuuri. He wriggles a little, and Viktor huffs out a laugh, bumping his forehead into the back of Yuuri’s head in wordless remonstrance. 

"I wish you were in me," Yuuri pleads, delirious and defiant and filled with Viktor's come. He's so full, and his ass is aching with use, but he wants more, _more_. "It isn't enough," he he slurs. " _Please_ , Vitya. One -- one more time, just to make sure." 

"Food first," Viktor says firmly. His fingers are shaking when he presses another spoon to Yuuri's lips. They’re trembling, too, where his other hand has slipped under Yuuri’s borrowed jumper, to cup the stubborn slope of pudge under Yuuri’s bellybutton, his thumb stroking at the flat muscle above it like he can’t help it.

They make it through most of the enormous container of borscht before Viktor puts the lid on and carefully places it to the side, off the kotatsu top. Yuuri already misses having his hands on his skin.

"Hey, Yuuri," Viktor whispers, already back and sliding both hands under his jumper. It’s made from some sort of wool that feels like the breath of the gods, and is going to be ruined in short order, Yuuri is certain. It is also the only thing that Yuuri is wearing, other than the plug nestled in him just short of where Yuuri wants it. 

Yuuri makes a sound. He hopes it sounds like 'yes?'

“Turn around, darling,” Viktor says, already starting to guide Yuuri around and onto his back. “I want to see your face when I do — this.”

‘This’ involves hitching Yuuri’s legs up over his shoulders and stuffing a throw cushion under Yuuri’s lower back to protect it from the hard lacquered wood of the kotatsu tabletop, and casually telling Yuuri that “the tilt will keep my come in you,” before getting himself back into Yuuri, gone entirely lax and gasping airlessly in the wake of that destruction. 

It may just be being on _top_ of the kotatsu, but Yuuri feels like he’s been sunk into a warm bath of sensation; Viktor getting his cock wet enough in Yuuri to reach -- oh gods, a womb, _his_ ; Viktor pushing all the come deeper, deeper. Each viscous, syrupy thrust getting them closer to --

Viktor bends closer, tilting Yuuri’s hips up a little more, fingers bruisingly tight on Yuuri’s thigh and shoulder as he works for it. His breathing is uneven now, his eyes dark and intense on Yuuri’s own, his mouth hanging open as he pants, his sweat dripping onto Yuuri’s belly. Yuuri’s orgasm is an afterthought at this point, when all he really wants is one thing.

When Viktor’s eyes fall half-shut, a hectic flush high on his cheekbones, Yuuri _moans_ and lifts his hips into Viktor’s as much as he can, is folded almost in half when Viktor collapses onto his forearms, grinds in a little more, and groans out " _Gonna breed you_ " filthily low and intimate into Yuuri’s mouth. 

Any focus Yuuri may have had on the spread of more liquid heat inside himself is annihilated; it disintegrates, diffuses, makes Yuuri degenerate as the words glance off something in his brain, makes Yuuri’s spasming insides clench down hard and his vision static.

He comes to feeling wrung out in all the best ways and the dirty squelch of Viktor quietly levering himself off and out of Yuuri, his cock glistening wetly. Yuuri sighs a little, entirely satisfied and a little wistful at their charade coming to an end; Viktor’s knees cannot be doing well, pressing into the kotatsu like that. 

The look on Viktor’s face when he looks quickly up at Yuuri is a little apprehensive, and a lot smug. “Plug, darling?” he asks.

Yuuri looks at the plug, where it’s rolled halfway under the sofa. He shakes his head no, and winces as he folds his legs down from Viktor’s shoulders. “ _Ah_ ,” he gasps, at the ache in them, and the slide of Viktor’s come out of him. “Oh gods. Ohhhh.”

“That’s no good. Stretching tomorrow, I think,” Viktor says thoughtfully, even as he helps Yuuri stand up, wincing a little himself. “Ah, it’s all coming out. Your thighs, darling.” 

As they make their slow way back to bed, Yuuri giggles, still feeling a little light-headed, and a lot in love with this ridiculous man who indulges his strange desires and takes them to the next level.

“What is it?” Viktor leans down to peck Yuuri chastely on the temple, a strange contrast to the filthy slip of Viktor’s come against his skin. Yuuri’s going to need the shower.

Yuuri shakes his head and tilts his head back at the abused kotatsu. “Poor Bocchan, shipped all the way from Japan for this!” 

As Viktor nudges the bedroom door open, his laughing face is cast half in shadow, limned in light from the corridor. Yuuri’s heart gives a great thump, and he thinks to his younger self: _Just you wait_.

**Author's Note:**

> okay now if you liked this please read [my big bang](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11420298). I worked really hard on it and also I want to prove I can write things that are not!porn. OTL


End file.
